Everything Has Changed
by Kate-The-Great-And-Powerful
Summary: Five different stories, all beginning with the 74th Hunger Games. What could have been? Mostly AU. Cato's POV.
1. Prologue

**I finally started it :) This is an account of the finale of the 74****th**** Hunger Games, and then a few different versions of it. The story focuses on Cato. What would it be like if he won? Or if he died in a different way? That's all I'm going to say for now, because the AU themes are meant to be a secret :) Anyway, this story is going to have five parts. And it'll include some Clato in at least one of the AUs, maybe more. I'll start with the part of the story that stays the same no matter how different the ending is :D Hope you enjoy the story!**

_Prologue_

You could live in a wealthy district, like Two. Or one of the poorest districts, Ten, Eleven, or Twelve. You could be a quarry worker. A shop owner. A victor. A criminal. The mayor's kid. The mayor himself. No matter who you are or where you're from, one thing stays the same in Panem. If you aren't in the square on Reaping Day, you'd better be at death's door. If you're not, the Peacekeepers can make it happen easily enough. That's what they do in my district, at least. It happened to my cousin when he was my age.

The thing about the reaping is, you can usually guess who will be picked. It's more often the poor kids, the ones desperate enough to risk their lives for some extra food. Lucky for them, they never end up going into the arena. I used to question why I showed up at all on Reaping Day. All I had to do was stand in the crowd and watch some lucky kid charge up to the stage, ready for the Games. Until this year, that is.

We have a lot of victors in Two. But if one of our tributes comes home a winner, the other one is dead. It's a given. Last year, there was a huge party for our new victor. For a moment, I took a break, and thought about his district partner. How much I would despise myself if I ended up like her. Dead with my whole district celebrating. Even if a tribute from another district won; somewhere, they would be celebrating my death.

I'm never going to let that happen.

* * *

It's a gray morning. The stormy sky is an ugly color that matches the rocks in the quarries, and the last thing I want to do is get out of bed. I'm half-asleep when I hear a loud knock at my door.

"Get up!" This is Renehan, one of the more motivated trainers. On the morning of the reaping, he always makes it his responsibility to walk through the dormitories, knocking on every door to ensure that none of us are late to arrive at the square.

Reaping day. I swear under my breath and throw off the blanket. If there's one day where it's worse than usual to be shot by the Peacekeepers, this would be it.

The Training Center is usually very efficient in keeping the live-in students in order. But since both District Two tributes made it to the finale in the 73rd Games, the number of Careers-in-training has skyrocketed. The other veterans and I laugh about it, the fact that there aren't enough trainers to keep up with the newbies. That's what I wanted to do, if I didn't make it through the tribute trials; become a trainer. But out of every boy in my age level, I was the victor, so I'm going into the Games.

I've overslept. Now I'm too late to get some training in before the reaping. So I focus on trying to find something to wear. It's challenging to center my attention on clothing when I'll be in the Capitol tomorrow. I'd much rather work on my strategy for the arena now.

_Any good impression you want, you make it at the reaping_. I hear Brutus' voice in the back of my mind. The victor has tried to drill that information into my head since my first day of training. I guess he's succeeded. According to him, I can't rely on my strength to save me in the Games. I need sponsors, too. And to get sponsors, I have to be well liked. The people of the Capitol have to _want_ to help me win the Games.

Screw your logic, Brutus. I start to put on a button-down shirt.

By the time I leave my room, the hall is crowded with Careers-in-training. A few of the kids in the age group below me clap me on the back, wish me luck in the arena. I get some dirty looks from the ones in my age group, the ones who no longer have a chance at victory in the Games. Normally, I'd pick a fight. But today, I'm feeling too superior.

_Why are they still here? _I think as I return their glares. _They're too old for training now._

"Cato!" I look over my shoulder, and Rufus is heading towards me. In the months since I made it through the tribute trials, I've hung out with the twelve-year-old pretty often. It's funny, the fact that he's been a better friend to me than anyone in my age group. Probably because they all despise me.

But that doesn't matter, not when I'll be in the arena next week.

"Hey, Rufus."

"Hi!" Rufus grins at me. I guess he's excited for his first reaping.

"Everyone, out! Get to the square, all of you!" Renehan elbows his way through the crowd.

"Where are the others?" asks Rufus as he watches the determined trainer struggle to get us all out the door.

"I don't know. If I were a trainer, I wouldn't want to be caught in the middle of this," I say over the noise. Rufus laughs.

Somehow, we make it to the door without getting trampled. The clouds have grown black, heavy with water. The whole district seems darker today.

"Looks like rain," says Rufus with a frown. He's never been too fond of storms.

"Just imagine the escort's reaction when she gets wet," I suggest with a grin. Ida Seeming's looks, her vibrant wigs and caked-on makeup, would be much improved in the pouring rain.

"She'd look like a clown," laughs Rufus.

"She looks like a clown, rain or not," I point out.

Sign in doesn't take long. Soon, we have to get to our spots for the reaping.

"Good luck," says Rufus, before heading to the back of the crowd with the other twelve-year-olds. I walk to the front. It's interesting, the way the roped-off sections are set up. The eighteen-year-olds stand closest to the stage with the younger kids behind, almost as if they're protecting them from the Games. Not that the kids in Two need the protection.

"It's such a pleasure to be back in District Two this year!" gushes Ida. Her hair is a bright shade of yellow this year, and she has on a sunny dress on to match. Really stands out in the middle of the threatening weather. I notice how much makeup she has on and glance up at the stormclouds.

_Stay focused._ I tell myself, and turn my attention back to the stage. Ida has just introduced the mayor, and I'm too late to clap. His speech is long and elaborate, just as it is every year. The mayor of our district has a way with words, and loves to take advantage of reaping day. I don't usually mind, but today I wish he'd get on with it.

"That was _wonderful_!" says Ida as she finally takes back the microphone. She turns to the audience. "Now, I'll bet you're excited to see which lucky boy and girl will represent your district in the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games!" A great cheer rises up from the crowd. Ida beams.

"Let's start with the girls this year!" She crosses the stage and plunges her hand into the girls' reaping ball. Then, she picks out a single slip and breaks the seal with her fingernails.

"Cloelia Willemsen!" she calls. A girl with pale-blonde hair starts to walk up from the sixteen-year-olds, when another voice rings out.

"I volunteer as tribute!" Everyone turns to see who shouted. A short girl with jet-black hair and a freckled face stands in the center of the aisle. And she's not supposed to be there.

"Ah, marvelous! A volunteer!" Ida motions for the girl to come up to the stage. The crowd begins to murmur.

"What's your name, sweetie?" the escort asks with a smile.

"Clove Mallon," says the girl. This isn't right. The trainers were saving her for the Quarter Quell.

In District Two, if they don't let you past the tribute trials, you _can't_ volunteer. It's dishonorable; disgraceful, even. Is that what she wants?

"And now, the boys!" What if the same thing happens to me? Clove volunteered. Anyone can take my place, if they want to be a tribute badly enough. Ida reaches into the other reaping ball and pulls out a slip of paper.

"Tullus—!"

"I volunteer!" I shout, pushing my way into the aisle before Ida can finish reading the name.

"Another volunteer!" The escort smiles. "I expect nothing less from District Two!" At the end of her sentence, I'm climbing the last step.

"And what's your name?" she asks me.

"Cato," I say into the microphone. "I'm Cato Bailor."

"Fabulous!" Ida exclaims. "Everyone, give your new tributes a round of applause! Let's hear it for Clove Mallon and Cato Bailor!"

Tributes. I made it. I can't help but smile.

* * *

"Cato?" I'm just admiring the elaborately furnished room in the Justice Building when I hear my mother's voice. And it's a surprise.

"You came to see me." Try as I might, I can't hide the edge of bitterness in my voice. I've only seen her a few times a year since I was twelve. My father was killed in the quarry that year. A few months later, I was sent to live at the Training Center full-time.

"Cato, of course I came to see you!" I can hear tears in her voice, but they're not for me. She can lie all she wants. It doesn't change the fact that when she looks at me, she sees him.

"Yeah."

"I wanted to come and…And wish you luck." Maybe I should be touched. But then, there's the fact that it brings her pain to be standing in the same room as me. Because I do resemble my father. Blonde hair, blue eyes, even a similar voice.

"Thanks," I say flatly.

"He'd be proud," she tells me. "You're so—"

"So much like him. I get it," I say. Six years later, and I'm still just a reminder. My mother's eyes narrow.

"No. You're_ brave_," she says, "It was brave, volunteering for the Games. I don't think your father would've—" she breaks off. I open my mouth to say something, but I can't find the words. She gives me a kiss on the forehead. Soon enough, I'm alone again.

The next visitor is expected. Rufus.

"You did it!" he exclaims.

"Yeah."

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"Nothing. I'm fine." I put on a smile. Looking slightly doubtful, Rufus continues.

"Are you excited for the Capitol?"

"It'll be…interesting." I choose my words carefully.

"If everyone there looks like Ida, definitely," says Rufus. I laugh.

We talk for a while. Not about strategy. Not even about the Games. Just talk, as if it were a normal day. When the Peacekeeper opens the door and tells Rufus to leave, he throws his arms around me.

"Don't get killed," he says. I crack a smile.

"I'll try my best."

After Rufus goes, I have to head to the train. As I'm walking out of the Justice Building, though, I realize I've forgotten something. A token. Shoot.

As Clove and I are led to a car, I bend down and pick up a rock from the ground. Better a meaningless piece of home than nothing at all. I put it in my pocket as I get in the car.

Here goes.

**Hope you all enjoyed Cato's POV! The next chapter will be the beginning of Part 1, and the end if I decide to make it short. It will be called "You Know The Story", and will be canon. Please review! :D**


	2. You Know The Story: Chapter 1

**Hey, thanks for reading on! :) This chapter begins Part 1, and it's canon (my definition of canon is that it happened/could have happened in the story, whether you read about it or not XD) I apologize for skipping most of the Games; this story is, after all, all about the ****_ending_**** of The Hunger Games. Hope you enjoy reading about the end of Cato's Games! :)**

_PART ONE: You Know The Story_

_Chapter 1: The Beginning of The End_

It's so quiet.

I've been sitting in the same place for an hour or so, waiting impatiently for the Capitol medicine to work its magic on my knee. The sharp tearing sensation of pain has been replaced by a dull throbbing. I fiddle with the silver parachute that accompanied the medicine, biding my time. Normally, it'd take even longer for an injury like this to heal. But the Capitol has been holding out on the rest of Panem, with their miracle meds—

_The shelter collapses with Thresh still inside. I slam my fists into him repeatedly, but I don't hear him make a sound. He strikes back once. The force of the blow leaves me gasping, long enough for him to tear a hole in the flimsy fabric of his tent. And then, we're both on our hands and knees._

_As we struggle to our feet, he grabs a rock from the ground, and I pull my sword from its sheath. In an instant, he plows into my left side, knocking me to the ground. I scramble out of the way as he draws back his arm, and the rock smashes into my knee with a stomach-churning crack._

I blink once, and I'm at my camp again. I don't think I left it in the first place. I glance around at the familiar surroundings. The pine trees encircling the small clearing, the three medium-sized supply packs piled against each other. I edge away from the tent.

_Don't lose yourself now. You're almost there._

Three of us left. I have two more kills to add to the four I've already made, and then I'll be a victor. Lover Boy and Fire Girl, the star-crossed lovers of District Twelve.

_"Clove!" My voice sounds strangled. I crash through the bushes just in time to see my ally slump to the ground, like a marionette with severed strings._

_Thresh and Katniss run away in opposite directions, but I don't follow either of them. I fall to my knees beside Clove and shake her shoulder. There's a visible dent in the side of her skull, and her hair is sticky with blood._

_"No, no! You have to say something. Clove?" Her eyelashes flutter, and she moans. I take her hand and give it a squeeze._

_"Just stay with me. Please, Clove. You can't leave. We can win this together, I promise. Please, just stay with me!" Her hand goes slack in mine, and a cannon sounds._

_"No—"_

My eyes are squeezed shut, my fists clenched. I feel a sharp ache in my chest, and it isn't from my fight with Thresh.

I need to keep myself distracted. In a few more minutes, I can go after the Twelves again. If I don't stop reliving these memories, I'll lose my mind. I take out my sword and dig it into the ground, trying to draw a map of the arena. I make an X. There's my camp. Then, I draw a circle for the lake, a few lines for the forest, and some squiggles for the field of wheat. In the end, it's not an accurate map at all. But at least—

_"The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up and try it?" jeers Katniss, looking down at me from her high perch._

_"Think I will," I smirk. Despite how carefree she appears, there's no escape for her, and she knows it._

_"Use this, Cato," says Glimmer, holding out her bow. I shake my head and push it away._

_"No. I'll do better with my sword." I unsheathe my weapon and start climbing the tree. Fire Girl's eyes widen slightly. She starts to clamber up higher in the branches._

_"I've got you now," I mumble, reaching up to grab another limb._

_Crack!_ _Suddenly, I'm falling through the air._

_Crack!_ My eyes snap open. What was that? _Crack!_ It's coming from the bushes on the opposite side of my camp. I get to my feet immediately. My knee doesn't protest as I expected it would. My grip on the hilt of my sword tightens as the noise gets louder.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that the Twelves could be hunting. Maybe they're hunting _me_. I start to smile.

"Come on out, Fire Girl. I know you're here," I taunt, the grin spreading across my face. I still can't see her, but the sound of her footsteps has ceased.

"Get over here, Everdeen!" I shout at her. "Let's end this, now!" I wait for a response, and hear a different noise. A low, feral growl that makes my blood run cold. Images of mutated bears, wolves, and panthers dance across my vision. I take a step back.

It's then that the snarling creature leaps from the bushes, razor claws aiming for my chest.

**There's going to be one more chapter to Part 1 (This is going to be the shortest Part, definitely XD) Sorry for the shortish chapter, I didn't want to combine the two and have a one-chapter Part. Anyway, I would love to read a review or two if you could write me one! :)**


	3. You Know The Story: Chapter 2

**Well, you've met Cato, found out what his life back home is like, read about part of his Games. And now, the story is already ending :( Not the entire story, just Part 1 XD**

_Chapter 2: Climax_

I sprint to escape the pack of wolves pursuing me, my lungs screaming for air as I run. The fastest animals are already snapping at my heels, and I've just lost my sword in an attempt to drive them away. As if they would go. These creatures are muttations, specially designed by the Capitol to chase me down and end my life. I can only hope the other tributes are in a similar situation.

One of the wolves leaps in front of me, its grotesquely long snout curling back to reveal a mouth of sharp fangs. I dive in the other direction, catching myself before I can stumble. The pack follows close behind, snarling and growling at me as I try to escape. The arena's birds, hidden away in the branches, begin to screech when I hurtle past them.

One place has to be safe from the creatures. I run faster and harder, heading for the center of the arena. The mutts begin to fall behind.

As I crash through the trees, I see the Cornucopia, glowing gold ahead of me. The tributes from Twelve are standing between me and the golden horn. And Fire Girl is drawing her bow.

Her arrow hits me square in the chest, and bounces right off the lightweight body armor I'm wearing. The contents of my Feast backpack. A look of horror flashes across Katniss' face.

"He's got some kind of body armor!" she shouts to Lover Boy. She braces herself for my attack, but I run right between the Twelves and race for the Cornucopia. I hear Lover Boy shout behind me, and know the muttations have caught up at last.

I throw myself onto the Cornucopia. The sun-heated gold blisters my hands as I climb. Once I reach the highest point of the horn, I collapse on my side, gasping for breath. Ignoring the searing metal pressed against my skin. My stomach churns. I roll over, gagging, and start to heave over the side of the Cornucopia.

"Climb!" yells Katniss. I hear her arrows whizzing through the air, and try to get to my feet. Once I'm there, I double over, overcome by a shooting pain in my stomach.

With a loud growl, an auburn wolf jumps up from the ground. The mutt's teeth graze my ankle, but I jerk out of the way before it can get a good hold on me. I kick it in the snout, and it slides backwards.

"Can they climb it?" I choke out before my lungs are seized by a violent coughing fit.

"What?" Fire Girl shouts at me. Lover Boy says something I can't hear, and Katniss turns her attention back to the other side of the horn. The mutts are standing on their hind legs, making strange, high-pitched noises. Must be how they communicate. I take in their appearance before my vision begins to blur. Hardly the uniform style of the Capitol. Their thick coats are a variety of different colors and textures, from glossy black to light tan and curly. They all have collars.

Fire Girl shrieks. "It's her!" I can't concentrate on what's going on. My breathing still comes in gasps, and my head is pounding. The only thing I hear above the noise of the growling muttations is an occasional shout from one of the Twelves.

"Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" screams Fire Girl. My breathing is slowing. I attempt to regain my footing, only to slump against the tail of the Cornucopia. I have to get up, or risk being impaled by one of her arrows. Though I'll be risking that no matter what I do.

Unless I have something of hers.

When I am finally able to struggle to my feet, I stumble behind Katniss and her district partner, who are both preoccupied by the muttations. I sling my arm around Lover Boy's neck and yank him to the lip of the horn. He gasps, and tries to claw at my arm. Blood pours from a wound to his leg, staining the Cornucopia's gold with red.

Fire Girl whips around after her lover is jerked away. When she sees me, she loads one of her remaining arrows and aims it at my head. If it were anyone else, I'd be dead. But I know Fire Girl won't let go.

"Shoot me and he goes down with me," I laugh, though I'm about as trapped as she is. If she shoots me, Lover Boy will die. If I kill him, I'll have an arrow in my head before his cannon sounds. I have to think of something before he dies on his own.

Or maybe I don't. Once Lover Boy's dead, I could use him as a sort of shield. Or a weapon, even. Fire Girl has two arrows left, from what I can see. It won't take long before she's disarmed. I grin at her. I'm going home.

Then, I feel something on my hand. I look down to see that Peeta's…drawing on me? With his own blood, I think. An X, right on the back of my hand.

My smile disappears as Katniss shifts her aim and releases the arrow.

The weapon's sharp tip bores through my hand. I cry out, releasing Peeta. Then Lover Boy slams into me, and I lose my balance on the bloody horn. I fall backwards, arms reeling, and drop from the edge of the Cornucopia. I loose the air in my lungs the moment I hit the ground. There's no time to try and catch my breath, though, because the mutts immediately jump on me.

Under their crushing weight, the pain of claws and teeth, I fumble for my knife, hidden in the pocket of my jacket. I lash out at the closest mutt, and hear a scream of pain as the knife plunges into the creature's eye socket.

I try to stand, but I'm stuck in the middle of a writhing pile of muttations. They growl, tearing at me with their dagger-like claws. They're having a hard time shredding my body armor, though. Finally, I shove my way to the top, stabbing at the wolves as they try to drag me back under.

Once I'm back on my feet, there's only one thing on my mind: Get back to the tail of the Cornucopia. If I can climb back up, I'll be out of reach of the mutts again. Ignoring the stabbing pains from where the muttations' claws raked across me, I start to make my way around the side of the golden horn, using my knife to fend off the creatures. I glance up once, and Fire Girl is watching me.

The auburn mutt is back. I can see its leather collar now, marked with the number _10_. It rises up on its hind legs, towering above me. In a quick movement, I shove my knife up under its ribcage. It collapses to the ground just as another mutt jumps onto my back. I shout in pain as its claws dig into my shoulders, forcing me to my knees. I roll, trying to shake the creature off so I can stab it.

The fight goes on like this for what seems like a lifetime. The mutts never tire, never slow. With each passing minute, they grow even stronger. Maybe it only appears this way because I'm getting weaker. I can't go on like this forever. I have to get to the tail of the horn.

But the mutts aren't letting me get there. Half of them are attacking me from all sides, and the other half block my way. I hear a bloodthirsty snarl behind me and whip around, ready to defend myself. The creature, one of the smaller muttations, leaps off the ground and hits me in the chest. I stumble backwards, hit the ground with a _thud_, and find myself staring right into its eyes.

Right into Clove's eyes.

**I've decided to make this a three-part story, just to be fair to Cato's canon story. Most of the AUs will probably be a lot longer :) Review, maybe? Even though you all know what will happen next :'(**


	4. You Know The Story: Chapter 3

**I really am torturing Cato, drawing out his death scene so it's three chapters long. :'( I guess I'll make this one short and sweet. Well, not sweet. Sorry in advance, Cato and everyone reading this.**

_Chapter 3: Grand Finale_

Its collar is gold, like our costumes for the tribute parade, with the number _2_ engraved in the metal. Its fur is jet-black and shiny, its eyes a deep, dark brown.

It's _Clove_.

For a torturous moment, it just stares at me. In my head, the pieces come together. The numbers. The colors. All the eerily human characteristics these wolves possessed. They're the fallen tributes. The auburn mutt's fur was the same shade as the girl from Ten's hair. Marvel was the green-eyed creature with the light-brown coat. The little one with the crimson fur, that was the redhead from Five.

The Clove mutt's eyes are shockingly lifelike. A feeling horror washes over me as I wonder if they're real. A twisted image of Clove without eyes crosses my mind. How could they do that?!

Suddenly, the mutt growls and brings its claws down in a swift motion, cutting across my face. I scream out as it happens again, blinding one of my eyes. In vain, I try desperately to shove the Clove mutt off me. Even though it's one of the less massive muttations, it's easily larger than I am. As soon as I stop fighting, the weight is lifted from my chest. I feel their teeth through the body armor and know they're dragging me, all the way back to where I started. I struggle weakly, groaning for them to let go.

I see a golden roof over my head. They've taken me inside the Cornucopia. Once they drag me to the back of the horn they start to work away at my body armor, gnawing and scratching until the strong fabric finally tears. They manage to rip off an entire sleeve and immediately attack my arm. I yell when I feel the bone crack in one's jaws.

Hours pass as I drift in and out of consciousness. Each time I wake they've managed to tear away another piece of body armor, until I'm completely defenseless. Around this point, I start moaning again. My weak attempts to fend off the wolves are easily deflected.

"Stop, stop…You have to…stop…" I beg them.

I hear yelling from the top of the Cornucopia and remember vaguely that my competition is still alive. But I don't care whether they live or die, not anymore. I don't care about anything. Not about victory. Not about survival. All I want is for the torment to end.

The entrance to the Cornucopia begins to brighten as the sun rises. Suddenly, a shadow blocks the light. A face looks at me, upside-down. Fire Girl.

She's finally here to kill me.

"Please…" The word is incoherent, but she understands.

I don't feel the arrow. One moment, I'm watching the girl from Twelve draw her bow. The next, my world is engulfed in darkness.

***crying* CATO! Well, that's why this story is rated T. And that's it for Part 1… Part 2 will be called "Awake".**


	5. Chance: Chapter 1

**Wow, we're already to Part 2! The Parts are going to get longer and longer as the story goes on. This one should be about two thirds the length of an average fanfiction, I think. Anyway, glad you like the story enough to read on! :)**

**So, I know I said Part 2 would be 'Awake', but I kind of trashed that idea and started over with this one :/ So, here is the new and improved Part 2, 'Chance'.**

_PART TWO: Chance_

_Chapter 1: It Begins_

The countdown rings in my ears as I take in my surroundings for the first time. I'm standing on the edge of a wide field, in the center of which lies the golden Cornucopia. The horn is filled with crates of supplies, bedrolls and backpacks. But they're not for me; not yet. The Careers are almost always the last tributes standing at the end of the battle. We'll have everything we need. Right now, all I need to worry about is finding a weapon.

I can see axes and maces scattered on the ground in front of the Cornucopia. There's a small stack of throwing knives on top of a supply crate—that's what Clove will go for, no doubt. The spears are everywhere, stuck in the ground with no more than ten feet between any of them. They look kind of flimsy, for Capitol weapons, but I could use one of them to start. Everyone knows the real weapons are at the back of the Cornucopia. And chances are, those will be ours by the end of the fight.

I glance around, trying to find who else stands on my side of the Cornucopia. Glimmer, from One. Maris, from Four, along with her twelve-year-old district partner. Then there's the cripple from District Ten, the redhead from Five, and a couple others who are too far away to identify. But I know that the boy from Eleven, Thresh, isn't there. He's easily the biggest tribute in the Games; you could spot him from a mile away. Which means he's on the other side of the Cornucopia with Clove, Marvel, and the star-crossed lovers from District Twelve.

Ten seconds. I pick out a spear; just outside the mouth of the horn. Chances are, the closer to the Cornucopia the weapon is, the more useful it will be. Less likely to snap in half, too. I don't want to end up like the infamous tribute from the first Quarter Quell.

"Five…four…three…two…one! Ladies and gentlemen, let the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games begin!"

As soon as the gong sounds, I hurl myself off the pedestal and sprint for the Cornucopia. Clove and Marvel reach the horn at the same time I do. Glimmer and Maris must have picked up weapons already.

"Peeta's an ally," Clove says quickly when she sees me, "Don't kill him."

"Who?"

"The boy from Twelve," clarifies Marvel.

"_What_?!" I explode, "Her district partner?! How—"

"We can't talk about this now!" Clove cuts me off, "Get a weapon, Cato!"

Again, I'm aware of the battlefield around me, and the boy from Twelve vanishes from my mind. As I claim the spear, Clove grabs a belt of throwing knives and starts to pitch them at the other tributes. The boy from Nine goes down first, and the girl from Twelve is her next target. I don't have time to be disappointed that I won't get a chance to kill Fire Girl, because I spot someone fleeing the battle out of the corner of my eye. A moment later, the spear leaves my hand, sailing a good fifteen yards before impaling the unlucky tribute. No cannon sounds, but I'm not surprised. They usually wait until the initial fight is over, so we can keep track of the death count.

I need a new weapon, so I head into the Cornucopia, the sounds of the fight dulled by its golden walls. At the back of the horn is a tall weapons rack, where I find a sword, with a short, broad blade that reminds me of a machete. I take it off the rack and run back outside, nearly tripping over the girl from Three. I bring down my sword abruptly, cutting off her scream. That's two.

I scan the battlefield, searching for a tribute who's still struggling to get supplies. My eyes have just locked onto the girl from Eight when someone flings themselves onto my back.

"Argh!" I grab hold of an arm as it tightens around my neck, and yank off my attacker before he can choke me. It's the boy from Six, who must be on some sort of suicide mission. The air leaves his lungs as he hits the ground, and I end his life with a blade through the chest.

I straighten up and take another look at the field. The only tributes still fighting are Glimmer and the boy from Eight, but she's obviously playing with him. He eventually falls, and the girl from One starts to walk over to me. Then Clove strolls out of the Cornucopia, wiping one of her knives clean. Marvel and Maris appear next, from around the back of the Cornucopia. Twelve is nowhere in sight. No deaths in our alliance, if you don't count him.

I don't.

The rest of the tributes weren't as lucky. Their bodies lie in the grass, bloody and broken. I look around, but I can't tell if our new ally is among them.

"How many are there?" asks Marvel.

"Hard to say."

"We should've gotten at least half the field," says Clove, repeating a piece of Brutus' advice.

"I got two," offers Glimmer, prompting us. Maris has the same number. Marvel avoids eye contact as he admits that the boy from Five was his single kill.

"Three," I say.

"Three," echoes Clove, "But the Girl on Fire was one of them."

**And that's the new AU theme. Please don't hurt me.**


	6. Chance: Chapter 2

**Trying to get out a few more chapters this weekend :) Hope you don't want to leave the story because Katniss has been killed :/ Trust me, I love Katniss, and hated killing her off, especially so early. But I thought it would be interesting seeing how the Games would turn out without her. This could be a little similar to, say, what might have happened if Prim went in instead. *shrugs* Anyway, here's the next chapter!**

_Chapter 2: Moving On_

We start to move away from the Cornucopia, giving the hovercraft room to come in and collect the bodies. My district partner is giving us a blow-by-blow on the death of the Girl on Fire. Honestly, I thought she'd be more of a challenge to kill, but at least she won't be around to upstage us in the arena. Clove, still grinning with the satisfaction of having Katniss Everdeen on her kill list, doesn't notice that Fire Girl's lover is standing less than twenty feet away. Just our luck, he's survived the Cornucopia battle.

"She's dead?" The look of horror on his face says it all. He's afraid he'll lose his sponsors. He shouldn't worry, though. If he plays the part as well as he did during the interviews, he'll be able to keep up the act without Fire Girl acting as a prop.

"Yeah," Clove tells him as she turns around, "Second kill of the Games." Her tone is casual, but she's eyeing him carefully, waiting for a reaction. Surprisingly, Peeta barely flinches.

"Let's check out the supplies," I say, heading back towards the Cornucopia. Clove gives up trying to provoke our ally and follows, but Twelve himself doesn't move. "You too, Lover Boy."

His face twists into a grimace, but he doesn't ignore me. Maris chuckles at Twelve's new nickname. The rest of my allies are preoccupied prying open the supply crates. I pick a box at random and jam the tip of my sword under the lid. The thick blade acts well as a crowbar, refusing to receive a single dent in the process. The lid pops off easily, and I drop it into the grass. The box is filled with plastic packages, each containing a portion of dried fruit.

I don't notice Clove standing next to me until she speaks. "Apples over here." She holds up a burlap bag, and I nod.

"When are we hunting?" asks Maris from inside the Cornucopia, where I assume she's checking out the weapons.

"At night," I say at nearly the same time as Clove. My district partner frowns and busies herself with another supply crate.

"Let's leave after the anthem plays. We'll see the fires by then." From watching years of the Games, I can be sure hunting is easiest at night. The dumbest tributes treat the anthem as a kind of safety signal. As if seeing the faces of the fallen tributes projected into the sky somehow means it's all right to do something stupid. The day may be over, but it's never safe in the arena.

I look up again when the cannons start to go off.

"Twelve of them," says Glimmer. "Half the field!" Congratulations are exchanged. One day in the arena, and twelve tributes are dead. And District Two made half of those kills. Maybe Clove and I have managed to please Brutus for once.

* * *

The hours go by rapidly. We sort through our supplies, finally locate our weapons of choice in the pile. Glimmer's face lights up when she finds the bow. Strange. Her token, a ring, was confiscated the day before the Games. According to Clove, when you twisted the gem a poisoned spike popped out. I'd assumed the girl from One was a hand-to-hand fighter. Guess not.

My other allies have more predictable weapons. Marvel hardly ever left the spear station during training, so that's what he's using. Clove has her knives, and Maris has a sword. I nearly laugh when Peeta chooses the simplest blade he can find. That's not a weapon. That's on the verge of cutlery.

Clove finds two pairs of night-vision glasses in a small cloth pouch, and tosses one to me. When I put them on, every inch of the darkening landscape is illuminated. The others make use of the flashlights in their backpacks. Glimmer lights a torch to see by.

The anthem begins to play, and the glowing seal of the Capitol appears in the sky. I take off my glasses so I can see the bright light without blinding myself. The first face to appear is the girl from Three. Next are the boys from Four and Five. Both tributes from Six and Seven. The boy from Eight. Both from Nine. The boy from Ten. And finally, the Girl on Fire. Her district partner's eyes, not in the sky but next to me, are fixed the ground.

Marvel picks up a flashlight.

"Stay here and watch the camp, Lover Boy," he tells Peeta. Twelve looks up.

"What? Why can't I come?"

"Because you can't help us," says Glimmer, slinging her quiver over her shoulder.

"I can. I've got my knife."

"Your knife's not going to help us," I tell him, "Just keep guard here."

He doesn't give up. Eventually, Maris begrudgingly agrees to stay behind, throwing her flashlight to Lover Boy. She gives us a smirk as he walks ahead. She knows she'll have plenty of chance to hunt, while it's obvious that Twelve won't make it much farther. I don't understand why we've kept him alive for this long. What's the use of having him as an ally when Fire Girl is already dead?

About an hour into our hunt, Glimmer spots the first fire. We run towards the blaze and crash into a small clearing, waking up the girl from Eight. The drowsy tribute struggles to her feet, but trips over a root, landing her back on the ground where she started.

"P-please, don't! I-I promise, I'll—I'll do anything! I can h-help you! Please!" she stammers. I sneer at her before plunging my blade into her stomach. She screams, an ear-splitting, agonized sound. Her voice fades into a whimper before going silent.

"Good one," says Clove with a nod.

"Thirteen down and ten to go!" Marvel grins and claps me on the back. There's a round of cheers from our allies. After wiping off my sword with the sleeve of my jacket, I pick up the dead girl's backpack. Glimmer shoves her torch at Lover Boy and kneels down to see if she can find anything in her jacket. I sort through the pack's contents, lit up by the night vision glasses. A packet of beef jerky, a short length of rope, an empty water bottle, matches, and a compass. Nothing we don't already have.

"It's all junk," I mutter, "She didn't get anything useful."

"Nothing in her pockets," remarks Glimmer, "She travelled light."

"She didn't have a choice," says Marvel with a smirk.

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking," I say. Laughing, we start moving again.

* * *

A few minutes pass, but we haven't found anyone else.

"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" asks Glimmer.

"I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately," comments Marvel.

"Unless she isn't dead."

"She's dead," I say, "I stuck her myself."

"Then where's the cannon?" challenges Glimmer.

"Someone should go back," says Marvel. "Make sure the job's done."

"Yeah," Clove agrees, "We don't want to have to track her down twice."

"I said she's dead!" I exclaim, igniting an argument among my allies. Finally, Lover Boy's voice interrupts our shouts.

"We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

"Go on, then, Lover Boy," I tell him, "See for yourself." I watch the light from his torch grow fainter as he goes off, back to the girl's campsite.

"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" asks Glimmer the moment he's out of earshot.

"We could have gotten rid of him at the Cornucopia," I tell them.

"He was going to help us find out about Fire Girl," says Clove.

"It'd make more sense if she were _alive_."

"Let him tag along," says Marvel, "What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife."

"I don't trust him."

"Neither do I. But the more of us we can get into the woods to hunt, the better." I hate to admit it, but he's right.

"Fine," I say. Marvel opens his mouth to speak again, but stops himself when Lover Boy's footsteps become audible.

"Was she dead?" I ask him when he rejoins the group.

"No. But she is now," he says. Just as he finishes, the cannon sounds. "Ready to move on?"

We are. But this time, we're heading back to the Cornucopia. Hopefully, to get some rest before the sun can rise without us.

**It's starting out nearly as normal, actually. But things are about to get…Alternate Universe-d. Please review! :)**


	7. Chance: Chapter 3

**I'm back! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited. :D**

_Chapter 3: Revenge_

When we arrive at camp, we can just catch a glimpse of the sun rising through the trees. We still we have a few hours.

Peeta volunteers to keep watch. Maris might have made him do it anyway to make up for her missing the first hunt, so no one gives it much thought. We have a few large tents from our supplies. Not enough for everyone to have one, but enough that _Glimmer_ gets her own. At least there are plenty of bedrolls to go around. I can share a tent with Marvel, but I'd draw the line at sharing a sleeping bag.

Not that we're used to sleeping on the ground at the Training Center, but it doesn't take much time for me to adjust. The next time I open my eyes, the sun is considerably brighter through the fabric of the tent. Marvel is sleeping, and from the lack of conversation outside, so are the rest of my allies.

I'll admit, it'd be pretty satisfying to catch Lover Boy sleeping on the job. I unzip the tent flap and crawl outside, expecting to find the boy from Twelve slumped against a supply crate, asleep. What I'm not prepared to see him doing is leaning into the opening of Clove and Maris' tent. He has his knife, and he's fidgeting with it in his hand. After a moment, he turns towards my sleeping district partner.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Lover Boy whirls around, dropping his knife in the dirt.

My sword is no longer at my belt. It's the perfect time to misplace my weapon, too. Lover Boy scrambles from the tent.

He doesn't get very far. In a matter of seconds, I catch up with him, slinging my arm around his neck and jerking his head to the side. _Crack!_ Lover Boy hits the ground, and his cannon signals the end of the star-crossed lovers from Twelve.

By the time I reach the campsite, my allies are awake. I direct my glare at Marvel.

"Let him tag along," I mimic, "What's the harm?" The boy from One shrugs.

"He didn't even cut her."

"He would've killed her." A long moment passes.

"We should've figured he'd be out to get revenge for his Fire Girl," says Maris.

"There is no _his_ Fire Girl. It was an act."

"Well, I believed it," says Glimmer, "And risking his life like that, maybe he believed it, too."

"It doesn't matter," says Clove, speaking for the first time, "They're both dead."

* * *

The subject of Lover Boy does not come up again. Instead, we busy ourselves making plans for tonight's hunting trip. We can't decide on whether to go after the cripple from Ten or the little one from Eleven.

The first sponsor gift to appear at our camp is obviously for Marvel. It nearly whacks him in the back of the head as it comes down.

"What is it?" asks Glimmer, looking at the gift over her district partner's shoulder. I'm wondering this, too. What could the mentors give us now that we don't have already?

"It's helpful," says the boy from One with a grin, "I can make better traps with these." He holds up what looks like a twisted bit of metal.

"Why would you want to make traps? We've got everything we need." I tell him.

"Not for food," he says, "For tributes."

For some reason, catching tributes in traps has never seemed like an effective way to kill them off. Not to me, anyway. You have to know your knots, know the mechanics of your snares. You have to be sure someone is actually going to walk into your trap. And once they're caught—if they're caught—you have to get back to them before they find a way to escape. There are easier ways to eliminate your competition.

"Well, I'm going to start setting the up. Help me out, Glimmer?" Glimmer agrees, and the two of them set off for the woods.

I spend the day sorting through our supplies. Maris helps occasionally, but always goes back to sit in the shade after a few minutes. Clove sits on a supply crate nearby, and appears to be doing something with her jacket. I dismiss it at first—she's probably just bored—until I hear a ripping sound.

"You'll need that," I tell her, "Maybe you didn't notice, but last night was freezing."

"I'm not destroying it," she says, standing up. "I'm improving it."

"Yeah? How?" In response, Clove unzips the jacket. It's lined with an array of deadly looking knives. Not her throwing knives, though. Those weapons are still at her belt. She'll use these knives for a different purpose.

I whistle. "You plan to have some fun in here, don't you?" She grins at me. You never learn much about torture in training, if you don't count watching it happen in the Hunger Games. But it's useful, especially if you want to draw in some extra sponsors. And Clove's jacket of knives will definitely help her with that.

* * *

The sky starts to darken, and Marvel and Glimmer return to camp. Just in time for the Capitol seal to materialize above us. The entire anthem plays, but the only face to appear is Lover Boy's. When they project the seal once again, I put on my night vision glasses and head for the woods, the rest of the group close behind. The cameras will be on us from now until dawn. Unless someone else is doing something more interesting, which isn't likely at this time of night.

In a few hours, we spot another fire. A bigger one this time, though it's pretty far away. You'd think they would know by now, that lighting a fire at night is like setting off a flare. As we get closer, though, we notice the flames in the distance don't belong to any tribute. Even as we stop running, it continues to grow rapidly. The wide blaze is consuming the trees around it, washing over everything in its path like a white-hot flood.

And barreling straight for us.

**Sorry to leave you hanging, but I need to update The Highlights now! It's time for the Quell :D Anyway, please leave a review, it only takes a few seconds and means a lot to me! :)**


	8. Chance: Chapter 4

**First off, I really want to thank a guest named Clato 4 eva for reviewing! :D I was drowning in homework and due dates when I got your review, and it really made me smile, and inspired me to get some of my work done so I could keep writing! And yes, there will be Clato, especially in Part 4 :) Thanks for the review!**

_Chapter 4: Burning_

In an instant, the forest is completely ablaze. The flames climb up the trees, their vivid colors turning the whole forest to a burning landscape, full of scorching autumn shades. Thick, dark smoke fills the air as the fire rushes toward us.

I'm sprinting as fast as I can, with just one thought on my mind_: make it out_. This is not a natural fire. With our luck, it'll burn twice as hot. And if the Gamemakers set something on us, they'll have their reasons. Maybe they're trying to flush all us out of the forest. It occurs to me that this might help us with hunting, if they were able to drive the other tributes from their hiding places.

But not if we were all burned alive in the process.

Most of my allies are right behind me; only Maris is having trouble keeping up. Glimmer calls for her to run faster, but she doesn't respond. I hear a _thud_ behind us as she trips on the uneven ground. A piercing scream cuts through the thickening smoke, and I know the girl from Four has disappeared behind the wall of flames.

I make the mistake of glancing back.

Maris writhes on the ground, too deep in the fire for any hope of rescue. Her features have burned away, and her body is twisting, blackening by the second. The death of an ally. A real one this time.

_Boom!_

"Keep running! Go!" I start shouting, trying to erase the gruesome image from my mind. But I break off, coughing violently as I inhale the smoke. Through the trees, the Cornucopia's gold surface is shining. We don't have much farther to go, but we don't have much time, either. The fire is at our heels.

Suddenly, a tree crashes down in front of us. Glimmer shrieks, scrambling back when the blaze nearly lights up one of her ponytails.

"That way!" I yell, pointing to a break in the flames. After jumping through the opening, I hit the ground running.

The flames must have begun to devour the wood of the trees, because they're dropping quickly. That, or the Gamemakers are playing with us. Moments after escaping the burning barricade, another pine falls, and we're forced to throw ourselves out of the way. Just like that, our alliance is divided in half.

Clove leaps to her feet. We yell to the tributes from One, but a wall of fire has sprung up from the fallen tree. The flames make it impossible to see them. If they call out a reply, we can't hear it over the sound of the burning forest.

"Come on!" Clove chokes out. And we're running again. Towards what, I'm not sure. The fire surrounds us on all sides. I pull my shirt up over my nose and mouth, though my lungs still burn with smoke. The heat stings my eyes as I squint through the trees. Past the leaping flames and the thick smoke, I'm searching for an escape route.

And I find one.

I yell to Clove when I change direction, charging towards the new opening. I can see the Cornucopia, gleaming as it reflects the bright orange blaze. The forest starts reeling, a burning illusion that trips me up before I can reach the gap. I catch myself, just in time to avoid falling into the smoldering underbrush.

I dive through the fissure, landing hard on my shoulder. The gap wasn't quite wide enough. I know that as soon as I feel my jacket burning into my side. I practically tear it off, before crumpling it into a ball and slamming it into the ground, a last-ditch effort to "stamp out" the flames. My hands are red and raw, but the burns aren't serious.

Not like the girl from Four.

I start to choke on the smoke again. Or maybe it's something else. No matter what causes it, I'm on my knees again, gagging into the grass.

When my head stops spinning, I straighten up again, listening to the crackle of the flames as they eat away at the forest. Sometime in the past few minutes, Clove collapsed on the ground next to me. She's in no danger. Only drifting along the border of awareness and unconsciousness.

A minute later, the flames start to recede, leaving much of the trees charred and fragile. For the tributes seeking refuge in this part of the arena, climbing is no longer an option. In fact, there's nowhere safe to hide anymore. I guess we can rule this place out for hunting. We'll focus on the rest of the forest, and the field of wheat to the west. I almost smile when I realize our new advantage, until I remember where I am.

_Where I am_. The citizens of the Capitol will likely be watching me now. Shouldn't I show my sponsors that I know I have the upper hand? I've seen it happen before. If they think we're at a loss, they'll start rooting for the underdogs.

_Good thing we already killed them._

With the death of the Twelves on my mind, I let myself grin as I watch the inferno die away.

**Sorry for the long wait! I have a ton of homework to do, end of the year and all! Hopefully I can get another chapter out soon!**


	9. Chance: Chapter 5

**Sorry for the wait! I was finally updating Burn With Us, my rebellion story :) Here's the chapter!**

_Chapter 5: Ally_

By the time Clove raises her head, the fire is no longer burning.

"Where—?"

"Back at camp," I tell her, "We made it." After a brief hesitation, Clove nods, pulling herself into a sitting position.

"What about the others?"

"I don't know." I didn't hear any cannons, but we definitely could have missed them in the confusion. I might have just lost over half my allies.

It crosses my mind that that three people just burned to death in a fire. But I've been told not to think about that. It's distracting. So instead, I concentrate on our numbers again. What would we do with our alliance cut down like that, so early in the Games? I haven't given it much thought until now.

I don't have to wonder for long, though. I hear a muffled cough from behind me.

"Here," croaks Marvel's voice. Both tributes from One have made it out of the fire alive. They stand still by the Cornucopia, as if waiting for a reaction to their return. The sleeve of Marvel's jacket is burnt away at the elbow, and Glimmer's hair is singed. Neither of them looks injured, though, save for a few minor burns.

"Welcome back," I tell them.

* * *

The day drags on, but we never find ourselves in the mood to hunt. No surprise. So we wait around our supplies, all of us playing guard today. I crack open the lid of another container, in search of the burn medication. My hands are blistered and sore, and contact with the crates isn't helping much.

Two or three useless containers later, I'm getting frustrated. Maybe we _didn't_ have everything we needed.

"Whose gift?" calls Clove suddenly, pointing at the sky.

We all look up, but no one needs to answer. The silver parachute glides down to our camp and lands in the grass, right at my feet. I bend over and pick it up by the fabric of its parachute.

The gift itself is inside a small, cylindrical container made of metal. I unscrew the top, and as expected, it's just what we need. I stick my finger into the shiny cream to test it out. Almost immediately, the pain from my burn begins to subside. I scoop out more of it, and rub my stinging palms together. This time, the effect of the medication is instantaneous.

The burn on my side is worse; bright red and shiny, the blistered skin peeling away. That one feels like it's still in flames. But when I apply the cream, the fiery sting slowly starts to fade. I pull down my shirt again and hand the container to Marvel.

"You'd better thank your sponsors for that one," says the boy from One, relief evident on his face as he treats the burn on his arm. I laugh.

"Thank you, sp—" Something red flashes in the corner or my eye, and my head turns automatically to the trees. When I cut myself off mid-sentence, my allies turn to look at me.

"What is it?" asks Glimmer. I squint, staring at the edge of the forest. The bushes rustle as the form of a small tribute disappears into the woods. My grip tightens around the hilt of my sword. The only thing that keeps me from jumping up and running into the trees is the fact that I'll never catch up with them now. Not with their head start. Plus, the healthy side of the forest is filled with easy places to hide. After sprinting through a burning forest fire just a few hours earlier, I'm not in the mood for a challenge.

"Thought I saw something," I say, setting the tribute aside as my own imagination.

"What?" In my peripheral vision, Marvel turns to look.

"Never mind," I say, "There's nothing there."

* * *

I think all of five minutes passes before we start to wonder where Clove is. She'd gone to refill her water bottle at the lake, but never returned to camp. In the arena, you have to assume the worst.

"We should head over there," said Glimmer, "Wouldn't want to lose our knife-thrower."

"Ah, she's fine," I say, though I'm the first one on my feet. There's something about the possibility of losing your district partner that makes it worse than the death of another ally. Maybe because they're from home.

_There's also the fact that we need Clove in our alliance_, I think, vowing to keep my priorities straight.

We don't have to walk very far from camp to find her. She's standing by the lake, her water bottle in one hand, a particularly wicked-looking knife in the other. Only, she's edging it back into one of the new sheaths in her jacket.

At the water's edge, the boy from Three is facing her.

"Hey!" I shout. Three's head snaps up immediately, his eyes growing wide. As soon as he gets one look at us, he runs for the trees.

Or he would've, if Clove hadn't grabbed the hood of his jacket and yanked him back. When she lets him go, the boy falls to his knees, coughing and spluttering.

"He says he can help us." Clove tells us over the noise. She gives Three a sharp jab with the toe of her boot. "Go on. Tell them."

Three looks up at us, still breathing in short gasps from being choked with his jacket. It's obvious he's making an effort not to appear intimidated, but so far, it's not working. He struggles to his feet. The only one he outmatches in height is Clove, and even then, it's not by much.

"I…I can help you guard your supplies," he gets out. Out of the corner of my eye, Glimmer and Marvel exchange a glance.

"Should be easy," Glimmer mumbles. She could be talking about guarding the supplies—with only five tributes we need to guard them from—but it's more likely she's considering our chances of killing the boy.

"No, I mean…" says Three, "I can set up the mines around them."

"The mines?" As soon as I say it, I can imagine it. Whoever was sneaking around at the edge of the forest takes one step towards our supplies and gets blown to pieces, just the way they would've if they had stepped off their pedestal early.

Three nods.

"But if somebody triggers the mines, they'll all set each other off," Marvel points out, "Then we won't have anything left to guard."

"Yeah," I say. Another problem dawns on me. "How are we supposed to get to them once the mines are there, anyway?"

"Well, if I set them up in the right pattern, one mine's detonation won't affect any of the others," Three explains quickly, "And I'll know how they're positioned. If you need something, I can cross the minefield and get it."

It's not a bad idea.

"Show us," I say, nodding to the camp. Looking only slightly less uncomfortable, Three leads the way.

**Still a long way to go with Part 2! :D It's not going to be a full-length story, but it'll come pretty close :) Not to mention being a lot longer than Part 1! Please review!**


End file.
